Something Just Like This
by Tavyn
Summary: After getting locked in that little closet in the Russian banya with Sara, Leonard has a lot of thoughts to sort through. It doesn't help when the ship is attacked by Chronos, Gideon is lost, and Sara and Leonard are the only ones free to hit a manual reset panel in the ceiling. Because unless he'd like her to boost him up, she'll have to climb up him to reach it...


**Author's Note:** This is another S1 missing moment one-shot, and a birthday gift work for my wonderful friend, crazygirlne! It is a direct follow up to my story "Uncovered", and you should read that first if you haven't. It also takes place in the "Back to Me" universe, where Leonard met Sara as a young man in 1996, before she ever met him on the Waverider.

In terms of timing on the show, this takes place at the end of episode 1x5 when Chronos attacks the Waverider, right before the team crashes in 2046. It deviates from the actual crash sequence of the show and re-imagines that scene, so even though it's a missing moment, it's technically canon divergent. Hopefully that's okay for the sake of birthdays! Also, there's cake. Again, because, birthdays.

Oh - and sorry for writing the world's longest author's note - but I also wanted to say thanks to anyone who nominated me and my stories (including the series this is part of) for the CC Awards! It really means a lot to me.

* * *

He was staring at her ass again.

She knew it.

She _liked_ it, too, he was almost certain. She didn't object, anyway. She just let him trail behind her on their way to the galley, tossing him a sultry little smirk as she glanced back at him.

"I can carry a few bottles on my own," she said, although nothing in her teasing tone suggested she wanted him to leave. Quite the opposite.

"We're going to need more than a few," he returned, pointedly. "It takes a lot of liquor for this crew to get along."

She shrugged, a movement that traveled all the way down her body, shoulders to back to the sway in her hips as she walked. "I think we're getting along just fine," she said, the slightest hint of suggestion in her voice telling him she wasn't just talking about the crew at large.

Leonard swallowed.

She knew. She _had_ to know what she did to him.

Didn't she?

"Looks like Kendra's a stress baker," Sara added, pointing to a white frosted cake on the galley's counter. Leonard hadn't even realized they'd entered the kitchen.

Sara raised a brow at the cake, hands on her hips as she stood before it, considering. Then she shrugged again, and swiped a finger across the edge. She met his eyes as she licked the frosting off her finger, daring him to say a word about it.

Well.

If she did know how he felt, she was evil.

 _Seductress,_ he'd called her, earlier that day.

 _That would imply there's someone around for me to seduce,_ she'd countered.

 _You're certainly welcome to try,_ he'd said. He was regretting that, now.

She raised her eyebrows, sucking on her finger and pulling it out of her mouth with a _pop_.

Leonard coughed, twisting the sound to one of derision to try and cover how she'd affected him. Her eyes sparkled, never fooled.

"You're telling me that while were almost dying of heat stroke, the barista baked a cake?" Leonard scoffed. "Typical."

It'd only been hours since he and Sara had been trapped in that little closet in the banya, and the look in her eyes brought him right back to that moment, to the feelings of skin against skin with steam and heat swirling around them. He felt it, and she did too. She _had_ to. He sidled closer to her, erasing the scraps of distance between them. Even a few feet seemed like too much now, with the memories so raw and fresh in his mind.

He waited for her to retreat, to pull away. But she didn't.

"Want some?" she offered instead, turning the cake plate toward him. She watched him, eyes casually curious as she took another little scoop of frosting in her finger, licking it off again and lingering even longer than she had the first time.

Evil.

And he _liked_ it.

"No thanks," he drawled, trying to hide the roughness in his voice. He hungered for something else.

She knew that.

Maybe that was why she took yet another lick of frosting before pushing the plate away. Her mouth curved up when she looked at him again, a devilish smile made worse by the bit of frosting she'd missed at the corner. "I wonder why Kendra didn't bring this to the party," she mused, licking her lips clean.

Against his will, his mind conjured the image of Sara undressing before him, mere inches between them in that closet. He forgot to breathe, remembering the way she'd stretched once she was finally free of her leathers, muscles pulled taut and glistening with sweat. The way that little white strip of fabric she'd cut from his robe and tied as a bandeau across her chest had stretched with her, revealing the skin and curves beneath. That scrap of red lace, the only other covering she wore. He drank in the memory; he lived in it. It consumed him.

"Let's focus on the booze," Leonard suggested, trying to shake himself out of it. He'd need to drink an entire bottle to keep himself distracted from these thoughts.

As it was, he wouldn't be sleeping for weeks, not after today. Not now that he knew how her bare chest felt pressed up against his, how soft her lips were against his shoulder, how sweet her bare skin tasted under his fingers. Had it really only been hours ago?

Leonard shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over a kitchen barstool. Suddenly he felt as hot as he had in that steam room.

 _Booze,_ he reminded himself. They were here for booze.

Sara raised her eyebrows, smirking in a way that told him she knew exactly where his mind really was.

Neither of them made a move though, and for a moment he wondered where _her_ mind was. She'd felt everything he had, he knew that, as desperate as she was to pretend it hadn't happened. She blinked, and her smirk faded, and he almost asked what she was thinking. Almost.

And then the ship shook, nearly knocking them both off their feet.

"What was that?" Sara asked, staring at the ceiling as the ship rattled ominously around them.

"The ship has been targeted by projectile explosives," Gideon's voice answered from above. "Firing countermeasures now."

"But we're in the timestream," Sara protested. "Who could be firing at us?"

Sara and Leonard's eyes met as another crash rocked through the ship, the lights flickering around them.

"Chronos," they agreed in unison.

"That seems most likely," Gideon said. "We've made a hit to his ship, but –"

Her voice cut off in time with a bang, and the floor tilted beneath them. Sara and Leonard gripped at counters and chairs to stay upright.

"Gideon?" Sara asked into the eerie quiet that followed the crash. The AI didn't answer.

"Sara? Mr. Snart?" Rip's voice came across the comms instead. "Are you alright?"

"We're fine, Rip," Leonard snapped. He was growing frustrated with the familiarities Rip had been taking with Sara, like dropping the "miss" and addressing her by her first name – something he never seemed to do with anyone else. It was a ridiculous moment to be feeling jealous, he knew, but the flare in his temper rose despite himself. _If it had been Hunter in that closet, would Sara have undressed in front of him?_ He almost growled at the thought, rejecting it immediately. No. Even if she'd had to, it wouldn't have been with the same teasing and taunting and flirting. Leonard knew that he and Sara had a special bond that wasn't shared by anyone else on the ship.

But did she know that?

"We've lost Gideon," Rip said, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm trying to out-maneuver Chronos on manual, but it's –"

They winced as another crash bounced through the ship, this one very nearly sending Leonard to his knees.

"–Challenging, without Gideon's predictive algorithms," Rip finished, his voice now crackling as it came over the comms. "There's a manual reset panel in the galley. Can you reach it?"

"We're in the galley," Sara confirmed. "Where's the panel?"

"In the ceiling, over the table," Rip instructed.

Sara wasted no time scampering up the table, pushing the ceiling panel aside and peering up into the darkness. The ship tilted, and Leonard winced as Sara's feet slid along the table, his stomach clenching even as she caught herself on the opening above.

"There's nothing here, Rip," Sara called, her voice strained from the effort.

"Uh…"

Ray's voice crackled over the comms. "I may know something about that…"

"This idiot made me move the table!" Jax's voice called. "Said there was better 'feng shui' in the corner."

"Sorry!" Ray winced.

"Where did it used to be, Palmer?" Leonard growled, ushering Sara off the table before the ship could shake again.

"About four feet to the right," Ray said, his voice sheepish.

"Can you reach it?" Rip asked. "Do try to hurry," he added, as the ship took a sharp turn, veering to the left and sending Sara and Leonard sliding across the floor.

They braced themselves, hanging on until the ship righted. Leonard tugged at the chair in his hand, grimacing as he realized it had been bolted in place.

"These aren't going anywhere," he said, not that it needed saying. "Got a ladder nearby?" Leonard asked, aiming his sarcasm at the ceiling, but paused when he caught sight of the look on Sara's face.

She was staring at him, studying him much too intently. Her eyes moved up and down over his body, then measured the distance above his head.

"What are you…" he trailed off, stopping short when she approached him, taking him by the shoulders and positioning him about four feet to the right of the table. His stomach dropped as he realized what she meant to do. "You can't be serious," he said.

She put her hands on her hips, the challenge in her eyes lighting up her face. "Unless you'd like me to boost you up instead?" she asked.

"That's not what I meant."

"There's no time for anything else," Sara insisted, taking a step closer. She draped her arms around his neck. Her eyes flicked up to his. "Do you mind?" she asked, softly.

"Obviously not," he murmured, thinking back again to the way they'd held each other in that damn steam room closet.

"Good." As frantic as the moment was, she paused, staring into his eyes as she hopped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. His arms reached automatically around her, holding her close.

For Leonard, they were in that closet again, practically naked and tangled together, dizzy and breathless and waiting. Her face hovered above his, serious for a heartbeat, like she might just lean down and kiss him. He watched the thought flit through her eyes, felt the wanting of it as she tightened her hold, just a bit, and leaned a little closer. His lips parted.

Then she winked, and whispered in his ear. "Just stand _erect_ , and we'll be fine."

Leonard stifled back a smirk and then a groan as Sara swung her leg out and deftly climbed up him, spinning to sit on his shoulders with her legs hanging over his chest. The erect part wouldn't be a problem, he thought.

"And watch your hands," she added warningly, pushing at the ceiling panel.

It wasn't like his hands had wandered in the closet. Somehow, he'd managed to be a perfect gentleman, not that he could say where he'd conjured that self-restraint from.

Sara shifted, slipping dangerously backward, and Leonard grasped at the front of her legs, holding her secure.

"What am I looking for, Rip?" she asked, back arcing and neck craning as she searched within the opening.

Rip answered, but Leonard barely heard him. Their chatter faded in his ears. Suddenly, he was too caught in the wondering of what would've been in that steamy closet, if the captain hadn't interrupted them then.

Sara _had_ been about to kiss him, Leonard knew that. He'd been resisting doing the same, a torturous kind of resistance that took everything in him. And why?

He glanced up at Sara. Her left hand drifted out of the opening, swaying in the air as she caught her balance at a sharp turn of ship. The sight of it gripped something in his gut. Maybe because her hand was empty, now, but…

But he could still remember the sight of his ring on her finger. Twenty years later, he remembered.

The memory was as faded, but real, as the ring itself. Sara had no idea that he'd met her twenty years ago. It hadn't happened for her yet, clearly. She'd danced in and out of his life on a whirlwind, and while Leonard hadn't realized it at the time, he knew it with certainty now. He'd met a future version of her, one who shared a future with him. She had to, if he'd someday give her that ring.

 _When_ he would give it to her, was a question he didn't have an answer for. He wouldn't pretend he knew they'd get married or anything like that. But there was so obviously something there between them, something meant to last.

So yes, he'd wanted to kiss her in that closet. He'd wanted to kiss her a thousand times since he'd realized who she was. It was all too easy to imagine what her lips tasted like, because he'd been imagining it for years.

But it wouldn't have stopped with a kiss.

If they had kissed in the banya, he wondered how long it would've taken for his hands to start wandering. How long it would've taken for his resolve to break, for him to finally let his fingers caress over her skin as they'd so longed to do. How long it would've taken until he was pushing that scrap of red lace out of the way, and she was ridding him of his own last bit of clothing, too. How long would that have lasted, their bodies slick with sweat and desire, before he was claiming her for his, at least for the moment?

And what then, when that moment passed? _What then?_

For all of Sara's strength and bravery, for all her confidence and bravado, she was clearly skittish when it came to the concept of intimacy, at any level. At every turn, she tried to push and pull away from him. Not that Leonard was known for being emotionally available himself, but she was keeping him at arm's length, even as he moved closer. She enjoyed the flirting, the banter, but anything deeper… There were so many barriers and guards around her heart, and he knew they wouldn't come down overnight.

His wouldn't have either, if she hadn't already broken them all when they met twenty years ago.

She didn't even know.

 _I'm at your mercy_ , he'd said to her in that moment. And he had been. He'd been so exposed by her touch, his ice melted by her fire. He couldn't have stopped himself then, even though he knew it was a bad idea to initiate anything physical yet. Her inhibitions may have been down in that steam room closet, but they would've come back in full force when they left and returned to the real world.

Leonard was patient, and Sara was worth the wait. He'd waited twenty years already, and he'd wait twenty more if he had to. _God,_ though, he hoped he didn't have to. Even twenty seconds was starting to feel like too long, but – if they slept together now? He was afraid it would only make her pull away harder, faster, and guard herself from him even more. He couldn't risk that.

When he looked at her, he knew he wanted a future with her. He wanted so many more moments than just one. So, he could wait. It would be just one long night after another of waiting, and he'd bet good money that he'd have an even harder time letting her out of his sights after today. But he could manage.

He was already hers. Sara had to know that. If she didn't…he wasn't sure how he'd tell her.

The ship swung, and Leonard dug his feet into floor, bracing as Sara's legs wrapped around his neck.

"Performing evasive maneuvers!" Rip shouted over the comms.

"No shit," Sara grumbled, struggling to hold on.

"Come on, get down," Leonard said, twisting in the grasp of Sara's legs to look up at her.

"I still haven't found the reset," Sara argued.

"It's too late!"

"We're free falling through the timestream," Rip said, voice laced with panicked disbelief. "Hold on!"

The ship banked hard in the other direction, whipping Sara and Leonard back. The entire machine started vibrating, shaking and jostling them, and Leonard lurched when Sara's grip slipped from the panel above and she teetered precariously forward. A large shudder rumbled through the ship, and Sara finally fell, tumbling into Leonard's arms.

For a moment, Leonard was both surprised and pleased that he'd managed to catch her. Somehow, she'd wound up with her arms wrapped around his neck and Leonard holding her bridal style, with one arm around her back, and the other supporting her legs. She blinked up at him, blue eyes round beneath her lashes, her surprise plain with her blonde hair thrown back off her face. She frowned, and the little dimple in her chin deepened, giving him an undeniable urge to kiss her.

Then the ship rattled again, tipped, and they were thrown backwards.

Leonard crashed back into the nearest wall, the force of impact pushing the air from his lungs. He'd been knocked off his feet, but somehow, Sara had stayed in his arms. He felt himself clutching her closer as he gasped for a breath of air.

"Len…" she murmured, voice small in his ear, her head tucked in the crook of his neck.

It took him back _again_ to the banya, to the way she'd settled into him then, her head resting on his shoulder, her back pressed against his chest, her legs leaning against his.

 _I trust you._

She hadn't said it, but her body had practically screamed it, and he clung to the memory of it as tightly as he clung to her.

Then the ship swung again, and they were thrown forward, Sara's back rushing up to the low galley cabinets. Leonard threw out an arm, bracing their impact and taking the full force of it before Sara could.

Leonard held them tucked in the corner as the ship jostled about, vibrating harder and harder, hurtling downward. He lost his stomach somewhere in his throat, and it was a miracle they weren't floating toward the ceiling. He realized Sara was clutching at his sweater as he leaned over her, his hands glued to the counters and his arms creating a makeshift shelter.

Leonard dipped his head low as he sensed the final impact, his forehead brushing against Sara's hair. This wasn't the end for them – he knew that. It couldn't be. But, he thought, swallowing back his fear, it certainly felt that way.

The crash finally came, louder and harder than any before it, lasting far longer than he'd expected as the ship skid across the ground. Leonard held tight as the ship's momentum slowed, shuddering heavily until it reached its final rest, plopping back with a mild thunk.

And as it did, something else plopped down on him. Something soft but heavy, hitting the top of his head before sliding forward and down his chest. It landed in Sara's lap, drawing sharp relief onto the fact that she, in turn, was sitting in his lap.

The damn, stupid cake.

Sara laughed, a choked sound startled out of her at first, then coming from somewhere low and belly deep. She tipped her head back, releasing the hold she'd had on his shirt to wrap her arms around her stomach, laughing so hard that her mouth started moving silently, no air left to make a sound.

Leonard pried his hands off the counter above them, knuckles sore from the death grip he'd held, muttering to himself.

"All that, and the cake fell _now_?"

Sara sucked in a breath, laughter pealing once again. She looked at him, and tears sprang from her eyes as she held up a single finger to his face.

Leonard frowned, scowling down at her, but that didn't deter her from wiping a bit of frosting off his ear and bringing it to her mouth.

"Mmm," she hummed, the sound bouncing as she chuckled around it.

"Not. Funny." Leonard warned.

Sara met his eyes in mock seriousness. She fought to keep her mouth shut, tugging the corners of her lips down, but it was no good. It was only a moment before she released a fresh wave of laughter on him.

"If you're going to be like that…" Leonard started. He grabbed a fistful of cake off the plate, and deftly pressed it to her cheek.

She gasped, laughter cut short as her mouth formed a shocked "oh."

"Only fair," Leonard reasoned.

Sara was deadly still for a moment, before her eyebrow quirked in that way Leonard knew meant mischief.

"You want fair?" she asked, sweetly, before scooping up her own handful of cake and pressing it straight on his face.

Leonard let a piece fall into his mouth, humming at the sweetness on his tongue. Then he retaliated.

For a few moments, there was a flurry of cake everywhere, being tossed haphazardly between them until the plate was empty, and pieces of cake lay strewn about the floor around them, the remains of a sugary battlefield. With the cake gone, they sat panting, the rush of adrenaline from the crash finally fading.

Sara's eyes met Leonard's then, and she smiled, a small, content little smile that he'd rarely seen on her – the kind that made her look entirely at ease. Playfully, she swiped another chunk of frosting off his cheek, and he returned the favor, using his thumb to scoop at a bit near the corner of her mouth. He leaned closer, rubbing the frosting away, and she stilled, her eyes dropping suddenly to his lips.

He wiped his free hand on his jeans, then used it to rub another errant piece of cake off that little dimple on her chin. Leonard found his hands slowing, too reluctant to move away, one still resting on her cheek, the other tilting her chin up toward him.

"Miss Lance? Mr. Snart?" Rip's voice crackled overhead. "Are you alright?"

They started, both jumping a little in their seats.

"We're fine, Rip," Sara called, but still not moving from Leonard's grasp. Her blue eyes stayed locked on his, dark pools he wanted to sink into.

"In case you hadn't noticed, we've crash landed," Rip continued. "Meet us on the bridge."

"Okay," Sara answered, voice cracking as she blinked, finally pulling away.

Reluctantly, they stood, brushing the cake off their clothes. Sara's face had turned pink, an adorable blushing shade that Leonard decided he needed to see on her again, as often as possible.

A thoughtful quiet passed between them. Sara moved to the sink, avoiding his eyes, and ran two towels under the faucet. She handed one to him, and he used it to wipe off his face as best he could.

Finally, Sara turned back to him, studying him with a seriousness that made him swallow, his mouth suddenly dry.

"You missed a spot," he said, breaking the silence. He took a cautious step forward, then another, and when she didn't move, used his towel to wipe a dried piece of frosting off the corner of her chin.

She stepped in even closer. "You, too," she murmured, leaning in and raising her towel to wipe a spot in front of his ear. He felt his eyes closing, his lungs breathing her in. And then, he felt the ghost of a kiss she pressed to his cheek, lingering for what must have been the hair's breadth of a second, but seemed like an eternity.

"Next time's on you," she said, her words hot in his ear. He opened his eyes, but she moved away so quickly that by the time it all registered for him, she'd already disappeared down the hall.

 _Next time,_ Leonard mused.

He liked the sound of that.


End file.
